


I'll Keep The Home Fires

by OwenToDawn



Series: 15 Day Lyric Challenge 2020 [11]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Courtship, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Relationship Negotiation, courting gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26122954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Sometimes home isn't a place or a land, but a person
Relationships: Shamir Nevrand/Claude von Riegan
Series: 15 Day Lyric Challenge 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882966
Kudos: 16





	I'll Keep The Home Fires

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of shocked that I had to create this relationship tag because? These two are so adorable and flirtatious and the man literally gives up his crown to travel with her like, wow, the devotion. So here I am. 
> 
> Today's fic is based on the lyric: 
> 
> "Some day in the sky we'll see the same sun on the rise" from Tokyo Sunrise by LP
> 
> I really liked writing this one. It was much more light-hearted than a lot of the other fics in this series so far. 
> 
> Title from the same song. 
> 
> Comments are loved

The first gift comes when Shamir’s on the shores of Brigid fanning herself with an intricate fan Petra had painted her. They’re lounging on a woven blanket together when the messenger approaches them, offering the small parcel to Petra with a few words that Shamir doesn’t know. She’s never learned Brigid’s language, though Petra’s been trying to teach her since she came to help train some of her spies. She’s also been trying to teach Shamir how to relax but she’s not sure she’s all too fond of that part yet. Petra hands the parcel to her.

“It’s for you,” she says before readjusting her sunglasses and stretching back out to resume her tanning.

Shamir feels the paper, trying to get a clue of where it came from, but it’s suspiciously nondescript. She unwraps it against her better judgment and a note spills out with a jingle of brightly colored beads strung together and connected to two separate hooks. Earrings. She frowns and looks at the note that accompanies it.

_“You certainly are wandering far, aren’t you? My mother insisted I send you these even though I told her you’d just roll your eyes. I hope my technique hasn’t gotten too sloppy since I never got to practice it when I was in Fódlan.”_

It isn’t signed, but Shamir knows it’s from Claude. How he’s keeping track of her location she’s not quite sure, though she knows Petra is close to him too. She tucks the note away in her jacket and holds the beaded earrings up to the sunlight. The beads are sky blue, black, and white, with small gold ones scattered seemingly at random throughout the patterns, and they dangle in thirteen rows.

“I don’t even have my ears pierced,” Shamir says, mostly to herself.

“Just because you aren’t a traditional woman doesn’t mean you don’t get traditional courtship gifts,” Petra says.

Shamir flushes, grateful that Petra doesn’t seem to be looking at her. “That’s…”

“If you don’t want to be surprised, our library has texts on Almyran courting customs. And I’m quite good at piercing ears, if you’d like.”

“I…oh, why not. I’m going to be here for a while anyways, that’s enough time for them to heal.”

Petra smiles. “He picked good colors for you. They’ll look quite nice.”

-.-

The second gift comes when she’s scrubbing mud off her boots in the stable of an inn using tools a stable hand lent her. When Byleth had sent her to Morfis to conduct some basic reconnaissance work to get an idea of the political climate there now that Fódlan was united, she hadn’t known she’d end up trudging her way through miles of swamp. From here on, it’s mostly dry plains, so it’s finally worth it to get her boots clean.

When she returns to the stable hand with his tools, he hands her a package. It’s wrapped in the same paper as the earrings had been, so she doesn’t even question where it came from. Once she’s in the safety of her own room, she pulls the paper open to reveal a slim wooden box. She pulls the top off and there, nestled in a soft cushion, is an ornate decorative knife with a wyvern in red metal worked into the silver metal of the rest of the blade. The craftsmanship alone makes her heart race faster than she’s willing to admit. Lifting it out of the box reveals a note underneath.

_"I know, I know, I keep sending you all these items you can’t use, but you should know it took me forever to make this. The blacksmith kept yelling at me for wasting all his good metal. I hope you like how it turned out. If not, I’ll introduce you to the blacksmith.”_

She places the knife in the inside pocket of her jacket, close to her heart, and tries not to feel foolish at the sentimentality of it all.

-.-

The third gift comes when she arrives at the wyvern stables at Garreg Mach to pick up her mount for the first diplomatic party to head for Almyra in who knew how many centuries. When she arrives, the wyvern is dressed in a standard battle bridle that’s been decorated with beads that match her earrings in an elaborate and beautiful pattern. Alois slaps her between the shoulders with a laugh.

“I never took you for one who’d want to dress your mount up, Shamir!” he says.

“I uh…didn’t,” she says. “It’s…would you believe me if I said this a courting gift?”

Alois looks at her. “Really? From who?”

“Ma’am, I apologize, I meant to get this to you earlier,” one of the wyvern stable hands said as he rushes up to hand her another note.

She sighs and opens it.

" _Look, I know you don’t ride wyverns all that often, but tradition is tradition and this gift is actually practical. I think my beading job is better on this than the earrings. Maybe when we see each other again, you’ll let me redo the earrings. Petra told me you wear them sometimes when you don’t have to worry about a job. I hope you’re wearing them when I see you again.”_

“Someone who thinks he’s clever,” Shamir says to answer Alois.

“Well you must be quite smitten with him going by that blush!”

Shamir strides away, resisting the urge to press her hands to her face as if that would somehow disguise the fact that Alois is absolutely correct.

-.-

The fourth gift is…well, Shamir isn’t sure this counts as a gift. Knowledge to a spy is perhaps the greatest gift of all and learning that Claude is actually King Khalid of Almyra is certainly useful knowledge. She’d always known he was important in Almyra. She’d suspected the son of some official who was important enough to have the resources to figure out her location but not so important that he couldn’t live in Fódlan for close to a decade with no one caring.

Of all people, Shamir understands the importance of secrets, but she can’t help but be hurt by this one. Claude finds her in the gardens as the welcome feast roars on in the great hall. He looks even more handsome now, his beard fuller but still neatly trimmed, and his hair longer and braided together with golden ribbons into two braids that reach his shoulders. He sits beside her on the bench keeping a careful few inches between them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he says. “But you’re wearing my earrings, so I suppose I haven’t ruined everything?”

“No, you haven’t,” she says. “But Claude…I have no desire to be anyone’s Queen. Not even yours.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m working as hard and as fast as I can. When I’ve met my goals…I was hoping perhaps I could…”

He trails off, looking down at his hands. Shamir swallows her own fear and covers his hands with one of her own as she tries to find the right words. Being blunt about her assessment of a situation or person has always been easy. Being blunt about her feelings? That’s much harder.

“I would like for us to belong to each other, wherever it is we go, Claude,” she says. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He grabs her hand in both of his and raises it up to his lips, pressing a hard kiss to the back of it. “I’ll try not to keep you waiting.”

“If you give up your dreams for me, you wouldn’t be the person I love,” she says. “So chase your dreams, and when you’re ready to belong to me, I’m sure you’ll know just where to find me.”

-.-

The final gift comes on the back of a white wyvern a year later when she’s fighting off a group of bandits to chase them out of a small farming village in western Fódlan. She’s turning to block a blow from an axe with her sword when the screech of a wyvern echoes through the air and a moment later, the bandit drops to the ground with an arrow in his throat. The sudden presence of a wyvern seems to be enough to convince the remaining bandits to flee and Shamir lets them go. No sense in resorting to violence against retreating targets.

She watches, hand above her brow to avoid the glare of the sun, as the wyvern circles and begins to descend several yards away from her. The giddy feeling that rises up within her chest as she sees Claude dismount has her sprinting across the field, a smile stretching her face wide in a way that still feels unfamiliar as she reaches him. He catches her easily when she all but runs into him, spinning her around a few inches off the ground as he holds her tight.

“Are you here?” she asks. “For good?”

Claude holds her to him tight even as he lets her feet touch the ground again, green eyes sparkling with mischief and love as he presses their foreheads together. “I’m back where I belong. For good.”

She kisses him and for the first time in far too long lets herself sink into the feeling of belonging.


End file.
